An Autumn Leave
by ValandMarcelle
Summary: (I'm sorry for the terribly play on words here!) The Enterprise crew is on shore leave in America during the months of October and November. Follow Pavel as he learns to push his boundaries and explore living life more freely. With Jim as his wingman and a certain handsome doctor as his roommate, things are bound to get interesting. (McChekov, rating might change later)


"You look great." Jim Kirk's bright eyes danced with light as he gave the younger man a once over, appreciating his own handiwork. "You have to admit, when it comes to picking out Halloween costumes, I am consistantly the best at making people look good." He grinned, barring wax fangs spattered with fake blood. He propped himself up against a nearby dresser, waving his beer bottle for emphasis, unable to look away from the masterpiece he had created. "Just look at yourself, kid - you can't say that I'm not the best at what I do."

Chekov couldn't even look away from the mirror long enough to wipe that smirk off of his friend's lips. He was already feeling a mixture of horror and embarassment from the getup Kirk had wrestled him into. "I look ridiculous." He managed to groan, brow furrowing with worry as he analyzed his festive clothing. His thin fingers pulled at the shirt Kirk had let him borrow. The neckline was plunged halfway down his chest, and to make matters worse, it was a few sizes to big in the first place. Ruffled at the edges and equipped with puffy sleeves, he had been assured that it was "the best pirate shirt a man could find." He hadn't wanted to go to this costume party in the first place, and looking at the pale skin of his exposed chest made him even more reluctant to go.

"Oh, cheer up." Kirk scolded, smirking with pride. "You know you love it. You're just not used to being so... _showy._" He stepped closer to the full-length mirror hanging on the back of Pavel's bathroom door, taking a moment to pause and admire his own costume. He shifted, looking at himself from multiple angles, his flowing cape swishing around his legs with every movement. He snapped his teeth at his reflection, laughing happily at the way his ensign flinched. Kirk definitely knew how to dress scarily enough on Halloween. His crisp button down shirt was dripping blood, a broken wooden stake poking through the soaked fabric. The man was definitely well versed in the use of stage make-up, from the tips of his seemingly-real sharp teeth down to the all-too-realistic wounds covering his body. He made a terrific immortal vampire, that much Pavel could say.

As the younger man pouted at his reflection, Kirk reached over to straighten his collar for him, slapping at his hands. "Stop touching it, you're messing up the ruffles." He commanded, and Pavel's small hands dropped obediantly to his sides. Frowning, he ran his short nails over the denim fabric of his skin-tight jeans. The dark wash color drew attention to his bottom half, something the young man wished he could cover more sensibly. This fashion Kirk seemed to adore was much too immodest for his taste.

"Can't I at least wear a different pair of pants?" He begged, resisting the urge to cup his hands over his most vulnerable point. Though they weren't technically all that bad (especially compared to some of the other things he had seen in Kirk's closet), he couldn't get over seeing everything practically outlined. He wasn't used to this kind of dressing at all.

"What's wrong with these ones?" Kirk wriggled a finger through the belt loop of Pavel's jeans, tugging at them. "They fit you perfectly, Chekov." He insisted, not hiding the long look he took at Pavel's crotch. Cheeks searing pink, Pavel batted Kirk away and tried to pull the shirt as low as the hem could go - though that did not do much.

"Besides," Kirk took a swig of his beer with a shrug. "If you change your pants, how will you find something to go with those boots as well as these do?"

He brought up a valid point. With the almost-knee-high black leather boots he was in, any other pair of pants would look ridiculous if they weren't as skinny. Sighing, he crossed his arms almost protectively over his chest and attempted to stare Kirk down. "Can't I just go as a Starfleet officer and don my red shirt?" He pleaded, widening his doe eyes and pouting his lower lip. He knew that his Captain found him attractive - as he found everyone with a beating heart attractive - but he hoped his young features would make him take pity.

"No way, kiddo. It's too late to change anyway." He was out of luck as Kirk took a glance at his watch and proceeded to drop his beer bottle down the recepticle. "Come on." He grabbed Pavel's wrist, wrenching him away from the mirror and towards the door of the small apartment the officers were all sharing while on shore leave. "Everyone else is already at the bar. I don't have anything against being fashionably late, but this is pushing it."

They were almost all the way out of the door before Jim realized that they were forgetting a key element. Sprinting back to the bedroom, he snatched the neglected costume ware and fitted it upon Pavel's head. "Can't forget your hat, pirate-captain." He teased lightly, continuing to drag the boy towards the party. Already outside the apartment building and well on their way to the bar, Pavel realized it was now too late for him to stay home. He sighed and tucked a curl of golden hair under the brim of his tri-cornered hat, following along beside Jim as they manuevered through the streets of downtown Los Angeles.

Though many people were wandering about in costume, all eyes were drawn to the infamous Captain Kirk and his entourage of the night. Perhaps it was the believable vampire costume or the red-cheeked pirate that caused them to stare. Either way, Kirk was eating up the attention while Pavel kept his eyes down and shuffled along after him, tripping over cracks in the sidewalk with a shamed expression. It wasn't that he was feeling physically uncomfortable but merely embarassed. He wasn't one to go parading about the streets like his captain would. His only hope was that the crewmembers at the party wouldn't pay attention to him. His face flaming, he ducked his head as they walked into the small entrance way of a stone-built bar.

Though it looked like a friendly enough place, he was dragging his feet already. They had rented the entire place for the night, so only Starfleet personel were allowed in. As Kirk continued to pull him inwards towards the bouncer (a man with forearm muscles bigger than Chekov torso) the younger man sighed. Removing his wrist from Kirk's grasp, he placed his feet firmly on the floor and put his hands on his hips. He knew it was very "diva" of him, as Kirk would say, but he didn't care. He was already tired of this night. The music was bound to be too loud, and he was going to get carded every two seconds, even though he was well into his twenty-first year. Not to mention he was dreading the thought of one man in particular seeing him in an outfit like this.

"What's going on, Chekov?" Kirk raised an eyebrow, unsure of what the hold up was.

"I would like to go home, Captain." He said stubbornly, his eyes connecting with Kirk's. The Captain's face fell in the slightest, but he continued to smirk.

"You're the captain tonight, remember?" He pulled at the front corner of Chekov's hat with a grin, causing it to fall in front of his brow. Frowning, Chekov tugged it back into place and shrugged. Seeing his resigned expression, the real captain rolled his eyes. "You know what you need? You need to get a few drinks in you and then you'll stop being such a wuss." He taunted, punching the ensign's shoulder lightly.

"What's this?"

Chekov's heart stopped cold, his blood turning to ice in his veins. Then, as suddenly as he had frozen, he began to melt. His heart was thumping, blood rushing to his face, his palms becoming sweaty. After getting over the initial shock of seeing Leonard McCoy in costume and off duty - not to mention in a cowboy hat - he was back to his typical nervous self, as he always was when the doctor walked into the room.

"Are you picking on your ensign again?" McCoy mocked, smiling as he walked past the bouncer and towards Kirk. In the small entry way, they were as close as they had ever been. Yet McCoy threw his arm around the Captain's shoulders, and Chekov felt a surge of jealousy. As much as he willed his face to stop flushing, he knew the doctor's trained eyes would notice. He hoped that the man wouldn't think any less of him for being embarassed and awkward. All he could focus on was the doctor. He could feel the phantom pressure of his arm, wishing it was wrapped around his waist instead of Kirk's broad shoulders.

"No, not at all." Jim grinned, putting his hand on Chekov's shoulder and curling his fingers over the bony structure. "I'm just trying to convince him not to go home without at least a drink or two in his system."

"You want to go home? Already?" Bones asked, looking incredulous and... disappointed? No, Chekov wouldn't allow himself to think like that. Surely the doctor didn't care too greatly about him. What did it matter to him if he was leaving? Bones could spend the rest of the night with Jim hanging off of his arm and be fine. Letting his bitter thoughts take hold, he lowered his gaze and shrugged. "But the bar tab is on Jim! The least you could do is cost him some money." McCoy mocked his friend, letting go of Jim's shoulders to elbow him in the ribs.

Looking sourly at Bones, Jim rubbed his side and let go of Chekov. "If he wants to go home, he can, but he'd be making a mistake." He said, as though Chekov weren't even in the room. Scowling up at his superior, he saw a flash of well-intended humor, and couldn't stay mad for long. Especially not when Bones spoke up next, grinning at him.

"Yeah, he'd be missing some great times with the crew." The short statement was directed straight at Chekov, McCoy's brown eyes latched onto the younger man. Feeling himself blushing again, he tried to look humble. McCoy just smiled genuinely. "Come on, you don't really want to leave, do you? Join us for a drink or two."

Shyly, Pavel bit down on his lower lip, looking up through dark lashes at the man in front of him. Oh, how his heart was pounding with excitement. He couldn't just say no and turn down doctor McCoy! But how could he even keep his cool long enough to sit through a whole night without saying something idiotic? Already he was trying his hardest to resit the urge to lean up on his tiptoes and get a taste of that delicious doctor. He knew with a few shots in him it would be even harder to manage just that. This was the offer he had been waiting for, however, and he wasn't going to waste an opportunity.

"I guess I could stay for a few drinks." He tried to sound sly and flirty, but McCoy didn't seem to pick up on it. Instead, he grinned and clapped him on the shoulder, pushing him lightly past the bouncer. Before they were through the door, Jim paused to chat with the man, who he addressed as Cupcake, and Pavel hesitated, looking back at him.

"Oh don't mind him. It'll probably just be us two drinking tonight, what with that man's reputation. You don't mind hanging out with a crabby old man for a few hours, do ya?"

"You're not a crabby old man." He avoided eye contact with a shy smile, walking side by side with the doctor as they headed towards the bar. "I'd be honored, doctor." He blushed, sure that he sounded ridiculous or childish by admitting his admiration of the doctor. The kind man merely lifted the corners of his lips in a happy smirk, his hand leaving Pavel's shoulder as they took two unoccupied bar stools.

"The pleasure is mine, kid. And we're off duty - call me Leonard, or something to that extent." He grunted an order for a tumbler of half ice and half Southern-style whiskey, allowing Chekov to make his drinking decision alone (something Jim would have never done). As Leonard placed his hat on the counter next to his drink, the Russian took his pick from the collection of hard liquids sitting behind the bar, pointing out a small glass bottle of their finest vodka. The bartender set down a shot glass, and much to McCoy's surprise, Pavel went straight to pouring. He took the shot like a man, throwing it back and setting the glass down with a loud clink.

"Since we're off duty, you should stop referring to me as a child. My _name_ is Pavel." He managed to murmur in reply, liquid courage now coursing through his veins.

It took McCoy a moment to wipe the impressed look off of his face. He knew that Pavel was old enought of drink now, but he hadn't expected him to handle it as well as he could. Then again, it was probably in his genetics to be constantly in control of his body, even with an increasing blood alcohol level. As a doctor, he understood that it was most likely a myth that your drinking tolerance related to your genetic history - but that didn't explain how Bones himself could get shit faced with one shot of tequila, yet be capable of doing his duties with a flask full of whiskey in his system the next day. He had always attributed that "talent" to the fact that he was from the south, and ignored whatever the current medical journals were saying.

"Right, I'm sorry, ki- Pavel." With his eyebrows raised in surprise, he took a tentative sip of his own drink. It was smooth going down, and reminded him of the bars back home. Oh, the days when he would drink alone, wallowing in the grief of going to medical school. Things had actually been looking up recently, ever since Kirk had taken him under his wing. Now that the divorce was finalized and he was out of the academy and working as a CMO, his life felt right. Lonely, that was for sure, but things were going pretty well on the whole.

"Thank you. Hardly anyone calls my by my name when we're _on_ duty. If I can't get anyone to do it when we're on shore leave, I might as well forget it entirely and tell everyone to call me _kid_." He spat out the nickname like a curse, frowning bitterly into his shot glass. He knew that one drink was enough to knock anyone his age out, but he had been in practice. This was exactly what he needed, anyway. He was just trying to be more brave, to start speaking his mind. If he didn't start talking, he would stay quiet the whole night, and McCoy would probably end up finding him boring. Besides, wasn't that attractive, someone with confidence?

"Huh." McCoy seemed to take a moment to process, swilling amber liquid around in his glass with careful hand movement. "You know, I never really thought that it would bug you." He said finally, looking up with amusement in his eyes. Pavel knew he wasn't making fun of him, even though it seemed like it. Occasionally, when McCoy was in a good mood, he took on a few of the personality traits of his closest friends. That is, he became just as jovial as Kirk, and tended to be more free with the joking insults. When he wasn't in the greatest of moods, the insults took a personal twist, and were accompanied with grouching and unfriendly glares - none of which had ever been directed at Pavel. He didn't want to make any assumptions that there was something there, but he couldn't help but notice that his favorite doctor never found a reason to be annoyed with him. It didn't matter how many trips he made to sick bay in one day - that man always had a bright look when he saw him.

"I mean - it doesn't kill me. I guess when... certain people say it... it's okay." He blushed, glancing up through long lashes, furtively looking at McCoy. His green eyes met the dark chocolate of Bones' for a quick moment, and he flushed a brighter red. Was he dropping too many hints at once? He had no clue what the doctor thought of him. In fact, he wasn't even sure if the doctor considered him to be anything special. Was he just another patient? Someone to hang out with for the night? Why would he ask him to spend time together at the party if he didn't think of him as anything more than a kid?

"Hey, Doc- I mean, Leonard... Are we friends?" He found himself asking hesitantly, looking curiously at his companion.

Surprised yet again, Bones looked up from his drink. "Oh." He said, rather abruptly. "Well, I'd like to think of us that way. We're crew mates first and foremost, and Jim likes to say that makes us family." He rolled his eyes comically. "I don't know about you, but I _know _every member of my family, while I don't know every member of the crew."

"That's true, I'd say the same thing. I guess I _know_ all of my friends, too..." He said slowly, marinating in his thoughts. The doctor didn't exactly know him. Of course, he had him on file for the occasional incident and injury, but did that make them companions? Pavel wouldn't even consider the thought himself, he had just been hopeful that if Leonard thought of him as a friend he could think of him as more.

Leonard seemed to be thinking over the same things as he stared into his whiskey glass, lips pursed. He nodded in agreement to what Pavel said, and with liquid courage running fire through his veins, Pavel found himself being brave. The flirty side of him, one that he had pushed down many times, started to break free. Before he could stop himself, he was reaching out and placing his hand on Leonard's knee. It wasn't too friendly of a gesture, nothing overly risky, but it was enough to cause his cheeks to erupt into a pink blush like never before. "Would you want to, you know... get to know me?"

Leonard's brown eyes were fixed upon Pavel's hand, his pale fingers resting on top of his jeans as though they belonged there. He wasn't bothered by the slightly bold display of affection, simply confused. He had never thought of the younger man to be anything but Pavel, his mind never once traveling to the thought that he might be gay or at least somewhat curious. Inhaling deeply, he thought for a moment what he wanted to reply with. "As friends, you mean?" he questioned, putting his hand on top of Pavel's hesitantly, his calloused plams roughly gliding against his soft skin.

"Perhaps more?" Green eyes glistening with excitement, Pavel leaned in, surprised that his tactics were working. Eliciting a smile from the older man, he held eye contact while Leonard considered his offer.

"We'll see how the night goes." He responded, grinning cheekily back at Pavel, his brown eyes caught in the ocean of emerald across from him. Breaking contact, he looked down at his whiskey glass and was surprised to see the slightest blush hiding beneath a layer of stubble on his cheeks.

That had escalated quickly, they both realized. Pavel removed his hand from Leonard's leg at the same time the other man withdrew his hold of Pavel, and they chuckled softly for a moment, together in their notice of an awkward pause.

"So, why the costume choice?" Leonard found himself asking, slipping into a new topic of conversation easily. Eying the outrageous clothing change, which was in stark contrast to the typical on-duty Pavel that he saw, he couldn't help but stare. The tight pants were one thing, but paired with an almost entirely open shirt and comically large hat, the doctor was surprised with the change from spaceship Pavel to pirate ship Captain Chekov. It took him a moment to draw the conclusion that a pirate was what he was parading as, considering how flamboyant the costume was. He couldn't draw his eyes from the younger man's chest, the pale skin looking as smooth as silk in the dim lights of the bar. Though he wouldn't have admitted it aloud, it was almost too difficult to resist the temptation and reach out to touch the bare skin that was being flaunted before him.

When he managed to tear his gaze away, he saw the red blush highlighting Pavel's cheeks and raised a questioning eyebrow. Where had the flirty boy who had sat in front of him seconds ago gone? Surely Pavel wasn't embarassed to have attention drawn to him - from the way he was dressed, Leonard assumed that this was exactly what he had wanted from the whole Halloween experience.

"Ah," Pavel cleared his throat quietly, reaching towards the bottle to pour himself another shot. He almost appeared nervous to have Leonard drawing attention to his apparel. "It wasn't my idea, actually. This is entirely the Captain's doing." He gestured to the clothes, pulling at the ruffled collar of his shirt with a tiny amount of disdain. He hadn't noticed before, but now Leonard could see just how uncomfortable the boy was. He was balanced precariously on the bar stool, as though afraid to adjust his legs - probably worrying that the skin-tight jeans would cause an awkward display. Though they had only been together for a few minutes, he had seen Pavel reach up to scratch at the brim of his hat a few times. So this wasn't his doing at all - how interesting that Jim had been allowed to dress him up like a little Russian doll.

"I thought I recognized that shirt." Leonard commented in an off hand matter, resisting the urge to laugh. "Jim wore it a few years ago to a similar event, I think." He nodded, remembering that night. How many drinks had the bumbling man poured on himself on that particular evening? He vaguely recalled teasing Jim about the neckline being perfect for him - he'd spilled countless martinis on his chest and barely managed a stain.

Picking up his whiskey glass, he watched Pavel down another shot. He seemed more affected by this one, rolling his shoulders in a shudder as it went down, though his face betrayed no notice of the taste. From what Leonard remembered of vodka, he didn't like the taste and it got him trashed with seconds to spare. He couldn't fathom how Pavel could handle even two ounces of the stuff, but he didn't question it.

"So, you let Jim dress you up?" He asked, his eyebrows arched and eyes glittering with mischeif. How close was that boy with the captain? He knew that Jim found him attractive, something about his "boyish charm" being a "total turn on." That wasn't surprising, though, considering Jim was somewhat of a sexual deviant who enjoyed any encounter he could get.

"I didn't ask him to." Pavel wrinkled his nose, his fingers fidgeting at the end of his shirt sleeves. "He just kind of pulled me aside and asked if I had a costume for the party." He withheld mentioning to Leonard that the Captain's exact words were "so do you have a costume to impress McCoy yet or not?" It had been a bad idea to reply with no, considering that Pavel had barely let the syllable escape his lips before Jim was throwing clothes at him and demanding he try them all on. "He was my designated costume stylist in seconds when I said I wasn't planning on going in costume." He shrugged, appreciated the snort of laughter that Leonard let out when he called the Captain his stylist.

"Ah, that's where he must have gotcha." Leonard chuckled, "Jim hates when people don't dress up for Halloween. He used to take it personally when I showed up for these things in a t-shirt and jeans. He's still holding it against me that I've worn the same costume for the last few years." He pulled at the collar of his plain red-and-brown plaid shirt. "It's only a step up from a t-shirt, but if I put on the cowboy hat and call myself a Westerner, he'll accept it as an actual costume." He rolled his eyes at Jim, laughing at the clever trick he pulled. Glancing around the bar for their captain, he caught sight of him doing a line of shots off of one of the nurse's stomachs. Typical Jim was having the time of his life - what would be a nightmare to Leonard was just a game for Jim. The man didn't think about germs and danger as much as McCoy did.

"So Jim wanted to find you a costume." McCoy deadpanned, not knowing exactly what to say. He knew what he wanted to ask - are you and Jim a thing now? Something told him that there was nothing going on between them. It was typical for Jim to show special attention to people, constantly wanting to help them with things. Yet when his mind wandered, he could picture Jim helping Pavel undress with that same look of glee in his eyes that he had whenever he found someone new to shack up with. He didn't know why, but that made him uncomfortable to think about. Pavel had shown interest in him, and he had been willing to give him the same attention in return. If Jim had already hooked up with him, though, he didn't think he'd be able to go through with it. Wasn't it guy code to stay away from your best friend's exes? Could a one night stand be considered an ex, anyway?

Trying to shake the thoughts from his mind, he looked down into his glass, which was half empty already. "You and him aren't..?" He said slowly, glancing up to gauge Pavel's reaction. He didn't know how to word it, but he wanted to know. Not only because some part of him was interested in Pavel, but also because he cared. A lot of the crewmembers who had been with Jim came crying to medbay when they found out that even though the captain liked them as people, they weren't going to end up in some relationship with him. It was hard to let people know what a free spirit Jim was. He just couldn't be in a relationship when there was so much to experience still out there - he'd told McCoy that himself. If Jim had given Pavel the wrong idea, it would be terrible for him to have to deal with the eventual rejection.

"Me and... the Captain?" Pavel squeaked, his cheeks erupting into flames. The young boy knew of his superior's attraction to him. He'd seen him checking him out multiple times. All the same, he had never considered the idea that he might be able to have the Captain, of all people. As nice of a man Jim could be, Pavel wasn't into him like that. "нет! I mean, no, of - of course not!" He stammered, biting his lower lip in nervous habit. "Why would you ask such a silly question?"

He looked into McCoy's eyes, wondering what thoughts were running inside the man's head. What had brought that up, exactly? Thogh it was only a passing thought, all too hopeful, he couldn't help but ask himself if Leonard would be... jealous? Would he want Pavel to himself, so that Jim couldn't have him? He wished it were true, that Leonard felt something for him and was green with envy at the thought that Pavel might have been interested in Jim first. But didn't he know from his previous bit of flirting that Pavel had eyes for him - and only him?

"I was just wondering." Bones tried to shrug it off, not wanting to discuss it in too much detail. It was always difficult for him to put things into words when it came to topics like this. When he was working, he could rattle off perscriptions without hesitation, and when he was with Jim or the pointy eared bastard, he could speak his mind with ease. With Pavel, though, he was too afraid of saying the wrong thing that would make the younger gentlemen regret showing interest in him. Though he didn't want to admit it, Leonard was slightly self concious knowing that Pavel was pining for him. What happened when he took a closer look? Would the ensign really want him when he realized what a pain he was? His peronsality was hard to get into. It took the insanity of Jim to balance him out, most of the time.

"Alright." Pavel said, letting it go with ease. He merely shrugged his shoulders and gave him a small curve of a smile. No more questions, no prodding for information, just acceptance. It was his laid back personality that made it so easy for Leonard to stop and share a drink with him. Though the doctor had seen Pavel at his most excitable, spouting out information about one science-related thing or another, that was back on the ship. Now that they were off-duty, the young ensign seemed not nearly as excitable. Leonard liked that in a person; the right amount of calmness and a hint of something crazy, just to spice things up. When it came to Jim, McCoy was always on the verge of hating that man. He was out of control, a ticking time bomb of a Captain waiting to explode off onto the next mission. All the same, Jim was his best friend, and they managed to tolerate each other - somehow.

"Speaking of the Captain," Bones prompted, leaning in to prop his elbow up on the counter. "How's rooming with that bastard?" He smirked, knowing Pavel had been dragged into sharing an apartment for their two week shore leave. Though it had only been a grand total of three days, Bones was sure Pavel had seen or heard something from the Captain that he didn't necessarily want to. That was how it was when Bones used to be pressured into sharing a suite with Jim; now that he had learned his lesson, he was staying in his own apartment a floor below their's. Five men in one living space, plus the rambuncious Captain, was too much for the doctor. He preferred to have his moments of silence daily.

Pavel made a face, wrinkling his nose in the detest. "It's okay, so far," he started, tilting his head as though the different angle might give him a better position to think in. "I mean, the kitchen's a mess, but that's ensign Furman's fault..." he trailed off, rolling his shoulders uncomfortably as a new thought dawned on him. "And sleeping on the couch is giving me a pain in my back." He sighed, running his fingers around the rim of his shot glass absently.

"You're sleeping on the couch?" Bones asked, crinkling his brow in confusion. They were two-room apartments, the cheapest on the market to rent. He figured that the men would split three and three, but it wouldn't make sense for Pavel to have to sleep out in the living room. That wouldn't exactly be fair, in any sense of the word.

"Yes," Pavel nodded vigorously. "I had been rooming with the Captian and ensign Furman, but they're, um..." a rosy tint began to light Pavel's pale face as he looked away, embarassed to be speaking of touchy subjects. "I guess they're _together_ now, and they kind of needed the room to themselves." He was blushing vermillion by the end of it, glancing back at Bones furtively. Though the ensign could be a bit of a flirt, he didn't really like talking about other people's sex lives - epecially since it was an awkward situation when he found out about the captain's newest partner. He should have guessed from the looks the Captain had been sharing with Furman that something was going on between them. He never would have thought that they would be _getting intimate_ with him still in the room, though.

Bones made a small grunt of disgust, nodding sympathetically at Pavel. "Typical Jim," he sighed, feeling bad for their poor navigator. Pavel probably didn't suspect a thing until it actually happened. That was a regular thing for Jim, sneaking around between partners until he found someone he liked and brought them back to bed. McCoy definitely knew how it felt to have to sleep on the couch to avoid that kind of thing. Back when he and Jim were rooming at the academy together, he was forced to implicate a "no sex in the dorm" rule to bypass any encounters that might occur. Even still, Jim was constantly forgetting that they had implicated said guideline, and Bones found him sleeping in the hallway once or twice.

"So you're going to be sleeping on the couch for the rest of leave?" Bones asked, concerned for the young man's health. His apartment was furnished in the same was as Jim's was, or something close to that, and he knew the couches couldn't be that comfortable. He was no chiropractor, but he figured that being curled up on a poor excuse of springs and old fabric couldn't be good for his spine.

Pavel shrugged, seeming resigned to the notion. Leonard shook his head, eyebrows furrowing inwards. "No, no, that won't do," he decided, looking down at his glass as he twirled a finger around its rim in absent thought. Of course room on his own, he hadn't prepared any quarters for other cadets. He hadn't really bothered to explore the apartment he was renting, though; they were only there for a month and a half before shipping back out. Perhaps there was another room - he vaguely remembered a few doors in the main hallway that he hadn't peeked into yet.

He looked back up to see Pavel staring at him intently, hanging on the edge of the seat for some sort of explanation. He realized, suddenly, that he had become pensive, withdrawn about the subject. He had merely gotten lost in his thoughts yet again. Though being employed in the medical bay brought many people the his attention daily, he didn't have much opportunity for in depth conversation.

"You'll have to take the extra bed in my apartment." He suggested, fingers gripping his whiskey glass on impulse. This was another one of his "doctor's orders" kind of things - he was going to make sure Pavel stayed in good health no matter what. That was his first job, his true calling - to help people, to fix them when they break, to keep them healthy and strong when they're mended. Even while off duty, his whole self was dedicated to being a medic, in one way or another. Here he was, trying to prescribe a mattress as a cure and everything.

Pavel didn't know how to react, really. He hadn't expected anything out of mentioning the uncomfortableness of sleeping on the worn out springs of the couch; he was merely bringing it up as a topic of conversation. Yet McCoy seemed so intent in his suggestion, he didn't want to question it. He merely nodded slowly, still a little stunned by the thought of it. Sharing an apartment with Leonard - he would have never imagined a situation like that! Before this night, he would have never even dreamed of spending his night like this, scantily clad in a sketchy kind of bar, drinking with the man he had been "crushing" on for quite some time now. This adventure was proving to be beneficial, if not somewhat nervewracking.

"Speaking of the apartment..." Leonard said, glancing down to his wrist. He pulled up his sleeve to reveal a weathered old watch, the kind you can only buy in antique shops on Earth. Pavel smiled to himself, appreciating the man's sense of connection to the past. He couldn't really relate - he was the younger generation, after all - but he liked the style of the watch, the leather band and worn silver face. It looked entirely in place on Leonard's arm, just above his wrist, the natural lead into his wonderful hands. Hands that Pavel had found himself fascinated by constantly. He had such slender fingers, so practiced and nimble, connected to crescent-lined palms and thick tendons. It gave the young ensign such a desire to touch, to reach out and intertwine their fingers, just to see how it felt to hold onto him. Were his palms cool, would his fingers grip too tightly, would his watch clasp scratch his wrist - would he pull away? The last question made Pavel's own hands quiver in his lap as he clenched his fingers into a fist and resisted the urge to hold onto his companion.

"It's getting kind of late. If you want to move in your stuff tonight..." Leonard didn't want to be pushy, but it was part of his personality. He just had to do it; he needed to help this kid out. He knew how awkward it could be staying with Jim, especially when Jim was with someone new and - subsequently - was constantly ignoring social construct in favor of hanging all over his partner. The captain was a great guy, and normally not run by such trivial emotions, but on leave it was like he was a different man. He was able to do all that he had avoided on the ship, and normally went on a drinking-and-loving binge. So it was best to stay out of his way if you didn't want to be involved - and by the blush that was still fading from Pavel's cheeks, the kid didn't want to be invloved.

"Oh - you want to leave?" Pavel perked up, back straightening as he moved to slide off from his stool. It seemed that the bar wasn't the kind of place for the younger man. He sure could drink, Bones noticed, but he was somehow still a little bit nervous, slightly reserved. Things had been taking such an interesting course earlier, heading down a different road than Bones would have ever thought possible - but now Pavel was drawn away. Was it something he had done? The doctor hoped not; it seemed that the kid was a bit uncomfortable all night, anyway. Perhaps his reluctance was due to something else.

"Yeah, sure, let's get out of here." He suggested, nodding Pavel in the direction of the exit. He followed the ensign's lead, interested to see where this new turn of events would take them.

**Author's Note:**

Hey there! This is a fanfiction I started back around Halloween time (yeah, it took me this long just to get a meager nine pages). I know it's a little rough, but it's definitely still a work in progress, and I'm planning to try to get it finished by next Halloween!

As a student and language-fanatic, I'm taking up learning Russian over the summer, so my challenge to myself is to include Russian words/phrases in each chapter as I learn them. In this chapter, you saw: нет - Sounds like "nyet"; translates directly to "no" Keep your eye out for that kind of thing in the future!

Please understand that this is a "McChekov" fanfiction, and this is one of my "OTP's." I'm sorry if you dislike that - this isn't the story for you if you're not into that kind of thing.

Thank's for reading all the same, please leave reviews, and I'll see you next chapter update!


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